


feed on what desire grows

by scandalous



Series: Kinktober 2019 [14]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Blow Jobs, Episode: s02e12 Distractions, Feelings, Greg House is Bad With Emotions, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minor Greg House/Stacy Warner, Praise Kink, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 04:24:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21470023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalous/pseuds/scandalous
Summary: Instead of a hooker, House calls Chase.
Relationships: Robert Chase/Greg House
Series: Kinktober 2019 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1502783
Comments: 9
Kudos: 111
Collections: Kinktober 2019





	feed on what desire grows

**Author's Note:**

> for day 14 of kinktober with the prompt "praise kink", and the second part of my chouse series!
> 
> Feelings Time
> 
> enjoy!

House considers calling a hooker, before he remembers he could fall into other old habits of his.

He grabs his phone and looks through his contacts, pressing the button and the ring-ring of his phone echoing as he waits for Chase to pick up.

"House?"

He swallows. He knows this isn't the best idea, but he needs to get his mind off everything that is happening.

"I need a distraction," he tells him. He hopes it comes as seductive, sultry, and not like he's a desperate asshole falling in love with his married ex-girlfriend once again. "Could you come over?"

Chase clears his throat. "Of course. I'll be there by twenty. Anything I should prepare myself for?"

House glances down at the floor. "Nothing too heavy, no, I don't think so."

"Okay."

"See you, Chase."

"See you."

Those twenty minutes are like torture, but he survives it. He watches TV and prepares himself, fantasizing dejectedly about whatever he's going to do to Chase this time around. He's not in the mood to do anything particularly harsh— no, that feels like misdirecting his anger at himself toward him. So he won't pull up the rope and the butt plugs or anything. No, he can't fall into that trap. He can't be one of  _ those _ doms.

Maybe he could exploit Chase's thing for praise. He hasn't done that, not too much, mainly because he can tell how much it affects him. Affects him in a positive way, mind you, but it still tugs at his heartstrings. It's uncomfortable; he doesn't want to be moved by how much Chase seeks for his approval, how he soaks in it, almost revering, almost like he's a higher being. 

A knock at the door pulls him out of his thoughts. He sighs, grabs his cane and stands up, heading to open it. Chase is there— his getup is nothing unusual. Shirt, pants, a jacket over it. He doesn't look like he's here for a hookup. That's one of the things he likes about his, well,  _ thing _ with Chase— it's casual. Nothing about them screams that they've been fucking, as far as he's aware. No one has commented on it, anyway, and Wilson seemed genuinely shocked when he brought it up early one day.

He leans in to kiss him. "Hey."

"Hi, sir," he replies, pressing a peck to his cheek. "What'd you like from me?"

Another thing he enjoys about Chase— how pliant he is. He's seldom been bratty, perhaps because of his search for approval at all times (he can blame Chase's father, as he can with most things about Chase's personality). But it's still nice, to have practically a hooker-shaped hookup without any of the money being spent on getting him here.

"Would an old-fashioned blowjob while I watch TV be okay?"

Chase hums. "Of course, sir. Ignore me all you like."

House clicks his tongue. "That's a given."

He limps back to the couch and settles down, spreading his legs a little as he turns on the TV. Chase sinks down to his knees and crawls to settle in between them, starting to work House's pants and boxers down. He starts stroking him to hardness as he glances off to watch an irreverent TV show.

He's not really paying attention to it, but that breaks the magic, so he pretends to be watching it. Chase  _ really _ is a hooker-shaped hookup, how he would do anything for him, enough so to not complain at the prospect of being ignored while giving him a blowjob. It's adorable.

As soon as Chase gets his mouth on his cock, though, swallowing around him, eyes fluttering shut like he's  _ delighted _ to have his cock in his mouth, his resolve to ignore him cracks a little. God, his mouth really is pretty; his mouth really is incredible. He bobs his head up and down, taking more of him in slowly, tongue circling the tip, pressing against it, searching for pre-come. He hasn't had luck yet, but he will soon.

House can't help it after a few minutes, zoning out hard on the show he's 'watching'. He turns the TV off. Chase makes a noise of surprise around his length, but he doesn't stop, still sucking him off.

He pulls his hand closer and threads his fingers through Chase's hair, tugging at it far too gently for the people they are. He wanted a distraction, so here he has Chase, at his mercy, and all he can think about is giving him the praise he deserves.

He's too soft. He needs to calm down, swallow all he could say, all that pulses through his veins.

He settles for generic praise.

"You're so good for me," he says. Chase lets out a quiet little moan around his cock, the vibrations making him spill some pre-come right down his throat. He swallows gladly. "Such a good boy. You suck cock so well, and you always take it so well, too. So desperate to please me. It's cute, baby."

He called Chase  _ baby _ . He wants to backpedal, to say something demeaning and gross, but it doesn't come out of his mouth.

Chase looks up at him with that eager look in his eyes. He knows that look well; the first time they hooked up, his eyes were brimming with it. Just the need to  _ please _ him. It's both cute and a little sad; he shouldn't be pitying Chase for choosing to fuck him, but he's like that. Chase isn't the only one with self-worth issues.

"Keep sucking me off, baby." He decides to own it. "You're so good at it. So good at so many things. Such a good boy, such a good pet, fuck, Chase—"

Chase whimpers around his cock, eyes brimming with… with  _ something _ . Arousal? Affection? Desperation? With how close he's getting, he can't quite tell.

"I'm gonna come, Chase,  _ fuck _ , your mouth is so  _ good _ …"

He screws his eyes shut and tilts his head back, his hips bucking up into Chase's mouth, as much as he tries not to, causing Chase to gag only a little. Another thing about praising Chase is how he means most of it, if not all of it. He shouldn't be  _ meaning _ it. When he offered it after Chase safeworded out, he thought he didn't mean it. That it'd be lies upon lies of mindless praise.

But when he calls Chase pretty, when he says he's  _ good _ , it's true. Every last syllable rings true.

He comes, groaning out as he fills up Chase's pretty mouth; he doesn't even wait for him to finish before he's swallowing around his softening cock, drinking it up eagerly. He doesn't say it out loud, but he does think of how slutty Chase is. It's what landed them here, after all.

Chase pulls off and sits back on his heels, looking up at House, a bit of drool dribbling down his chin. He cleans himself up with his sleeve and smiles. There's an obvious bulge in his pants.

"Want me to help with that?" House asks nonchalantly, pulling his boxers and pants back up.

"Would that count as a distraction?" Chase says, already fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

House huffs. "Of course. C'mon here, now. I'll jerk you off."

He obeys— as always, he obeys. He slides into House's lap and pulls down his pants and boxers, just enough for House to wrap his hand around his cock. 

(Chase is smaller than him, obviously, but it's not something he has brought up. At least not yet. It'd be great for humiliation purposes, though. He files that for later in his head.)

"You're so good to me, baby," he says, pressing wet kisses down his neck, holding him with his free hand around his waist. Chase whines out, tilting his head back as his hips buck up into House's hand. "Such a perfect boy for me. All for me; it's all for me, isn't it?"

Chase  _ whimpers _ , face flushed red with arousal as his hips buck up in tandem with House's ministrations. God, he's so cute. He almost wished he hadn't come just so he could see him riding him. "Yes sir," he moans softly, "it's all for you."

"Of course, pretty boy." He bites down into a particularly sensitive spot in his neck; he feels pre-come down his fingers, and Chase gasps. "You're so perfect. So perfectly pliant, such a smart thing."

Chase comes undone from the praise, he can tell. He's a little teary-eyed, even, and House wants to explore that. He wants to see him realize how much people appreciate him, how much he cares about him deep deep down, but instead, he goes silent, pressing kisses onto his throat.

"Please." 

It's one word, but it's one of those words that drive House crazy when Chase says it. His face is full of desperation, head tipped back against the back of the sofa in a blissed-out haze of arousal. He's close, he can tell.

"You can come. Come all you want, baby. You deserve it."

Chase whines out a mumbled thank-you before releasing, panting hard as he goes through his climax, eyes rolling back a little as his hips buck up into House's hand. He's got a porn star type of orgasm; how he goes limp, how his mouth opens in a silent O, a dragged out moan escaping his lips.

And God, he looks so beautiful like that.

When Chase regains his senses, he slowly disentangles himself from House, like he doesn't really want to leave.

"Do you need anything for aftercare?" House asks.

"You praised me throughout the whole thing," Chase replies, attempting (and failing) at sounding snappy. He pulls his boxers and pants back up. "What aftercare could I possibly need?"

"Dunno. Just asking."

Chase clicks his tongue and leans in to kiss him. He still has a vague aftertaste of come.

"Go brush your teeth before you sleep with someone else," is what House falls onto.

He blushes. "Oh-kay. Did I do good? As, as a distraction, I mean?"

Chase can get approval for thirty minutes straight and still search for it. That pity comes flooding back, and he tries to ignore it. He will not pity Chase; he knows pity will make Chase as angry as it makes him.

"Of course."

He did do great. Stacy is a fleeting thought in his head, a small whisper that makes him huff in annoyance. 

(Maybe it should mean something that he can easily get attached to his employee, forget all about Stacy. But he doesn't search for the meaning clearly there.)

Chase beams from ear to ear. "Okay." A pause. "I'll. Get going, then. See you."

"See you, pretty boy."

Chase's step is a lot more energetic than when he came in when he leaves.

Ah, well. Guess he'll stick to praising him as much as he can.


End file.
